


If Only

by Chummy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, change of heart, im really sad, thats really what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19469719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chummy/pseuds/Chummy
Summary: If only they'd met earlier. Maybe... maybe..





	If Only

None of it was going to plan. At least not his plan.

Maybe he was falling step by step with some deity’s plan for him, some cosmic inescapable fate. 

He didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t understand where he had made a mistake, can’t pinpoint when the plan fell apart in his hands. 

It was simple, but Akechi was getting wrapped up in stupidities, nonsense, interactions that in the night, dear god he allowed himself to  _ crave _ .

He was supposed to bring the Phantom Thieves down -no not down- he was supposed to  _ destroy them _ . Kill their  _ leader _ , their  _ joker _ ,  _ Akira _ . 

His justice, his vengeance, his absolute right… Akechi could practically taste it sometimes. He can’t remember when it started to taste like poison in his mouth. 

Maybe it was when he had laughed, fully and unrestrained, at a joke that Sakamoto had murmured. It had caught everyone off guard but Akechi didn’t sleep that night. Reliving the moment. _ A moment of what? Normalcy? is that what it would feel like? _ He wondered. To laugh without a facade, to enjoy without looking behind his back. To simply just be a stupid teenager with friends. 

What a novelty it would be if his biggest worries were his homework.

_ Yes that’s where it started.  _ He decides. When he started to  _ wonder _ , to  _ want _ and worst of all, to  _ dream _ .

His sleepless nights were rarities now. Soul heavy with exhaustion and horrors, sleep enveloped him, uncomfortably as if trying to drown him and comfort him all at once. 

Reliving memories in nightmares and discovering desires in dreams.

His mother would be lifeless on frigid tile that he could still feel bite into his spine. 

Akira would be warmth blooming in sweet sweet coffee and laughter which he could still hear. 

_ Oh if only _ . If only they could be more than just dreams. Mere wishes he wouldn’t let himself speak. 

_ If only, if only, if only,  _ the night whispered to him. 

_ If only  _ his father was loving, doting, a husband to his mother who had lived.  _ If only _ they’d loved him, raised him, cared for him. Maybe he would’ve met Akira, he feels they could’ve been friends. It’s inexpiable, he can’t understand but he knows, deep in his bones, they would’ve been friends.

All of them. In some way. 

All of this wasn’t expected. The turbulent life he was given. The mask he was made to wear. 

It was supposed to be simple. 

But now, on this staircase, finger on the trigger, it was everything but. 

This would be merciful compared to the things he’d done. The death would be clean. And he’d be that much closer to tipping the scales in his favor. 

Yet, his hands shook and heart hammered in his chest and confession and beg for forgiveness clawed away at his throat. He could feel it behind his teeth. That’s where it would stay. 

There he stood hands, drenched crimson and his crimes a weighted crown on his head. Truly a  _ prince _ . 

Standing there, looking at the look of betrayal, sadness and anger in their eyes, his knees threatened to buckle, remembering the few times those eyes had look at him with compassion, friendship and affection. 

He’d shattered it all. 

He could never ask for it back. He cursed the burn in his eyes and the air caught in his lungs. 

All for, for? He couldn’t remember what for. 

The look of pride in his father’s eyes when he carried his despicable crimes. A look _he knew,_ _he knew, he knew,_ wasn’t truly directed at him. His father looked into his eyes and looked at his reflection. His perfect tool, his weapon. He never laid his eyes upon his son with caring, loving intent. Akechi pretended the double edged praise was enough. It had to be, it was foolish to want anything more.

Maybe that’s what he was. A  _ fool _ . Maybe it wasn’t that bad of a thing to be. 

Because those cheap words paled in comparison to nights playing chess in a home that wasn’t his but it had started to feel like it, awful shaky car rides with banter he didn’t allow himself to admit he enjoyed, missions that made his blood rush with excitement. 

Akechi allowed himself to think of those things one last time. 

He knew he was never going to die clean and pretty but,  _ oh _ , how cruel the end truly was. Akira,  _ oh _ , he looked so shocked. Hurt. He shouldn’t look like that, Akechi thought. He didn’t want to bring them anymore pain. 

  
  


He wished them well. Told them to get going and he hoped his own life, his own end would bring it all to completion. 

He thinks of the king playing piece in his room. Glad he left it tidy. It won’t be a mess to clean up when they bury him, he thinks. He wonders if they’ll mourn him. 

The divider falls. A finalizing slam and he closed his eyes,  _ ready, ready, ready.  _ Darkness came swiftly hand in hand with a wave of relief. Maybe if the gods were merciful, now at the end of his life, he would be allowed to dream. 

And,  _ if only if only if only _ was his last damning wish.

**Author's Note:**

> Im in persona 5 hell but more specifically in akechi goro deserved so much circle of hell but NO HUH NO??? im so sad. Suffer with me folks. Inspired by Mitski's last words of a shooting star, listen to it and cry thanks !!


End file.
